


Virus

by orphan_account



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Cannibalism, F/M, Gaster is a little...strange, Gore, Possible smut, Reader is confused and trying her very best, Tags will be updated as the story progresses, brain munching, my interpretation of underfell, my interpretation of underfell gaster, post-barrier setting, reader is female with VERY VERY VERY slight description, slightly unhealthy relationships, the living dead, unconsented lobotomies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-16 16:04:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14814516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Your new life as the living-dead is...difficult, to put it short. Finding fresh brains is a lot harder than it seems, ESPECIALLY when they're the only thing that keeps you from going feral and completely "zombie-like". You'd had to quit your old job and live off of what little money you had left, spending more time inside of your apartment than you liked. On an evening of desperation, you're approached by a tall, pale man. He has a strange fascination with you, and makes an offer you simply can't refuse.Looks like you've found a new job, at least.





	1. Risen From The Grave

Standing in the doorway of your boss’ office, you take a deep breath to steel yourself. Shifting on your feet, you look down to the folder full of papers clutched in your shaking hands. You frown as your boss’ words echo through your head.

 

“Don’t even think about applying for that position! We finally have a scientific genius working for this company, and I’ve worked too damn long and hard NOT to get that internship. Not that I think YOU’D ever be able to land it, but I can’t have too much competition. His time would simply be wasted on people like you.”

 

Well, it wouldn’t matter as to what you did. Either he gets the job and you lose yours, or you apply for the internship, get fired, and most likely get rejected. Was it possible that he’d get the position? Of course. Despite how much of an asshole he is, he’s very intelligent. You don’t doubt him for a second. Sadly, that wasn’t a mutual feeling.

 

The thing is, there are actually two reasons as to why you’re going to apply. One, to get out of this shithole job under this sociopath of a man, and two, well...It was W.D Gaster. Even though the company you worked for was highly prestiged, you never would have thought someone like HIM would EVER work here. You were guessing he’d end up building his own company, if anything. Why was this so exciting? The better question would be, why WOULDN’T it be? Two years ago, monsters finally returned to the surface. A shock to humanity, and to quite a few monsters as well. In such a short amount of time, Dr.Gaster had already been interviewed many times, and even wrote a handful of articles surrounding his work. You read those more often than you cared to admit. A chance to work with such a brilliant man, especially one you idolized, was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

 

Giving yourself one last look-over, you knock on the door, anxiously waiting for a reply.

 

“Sir? It’s me.” You call out. After a short pause and the muffled sound of papers rustling, he calls back.

 

“The door’s unlocked. You can let yourself in.” The familiar apathetic tone doesn’t surprise you, and you roll your eyes as you grip the handle and push the door open.

 

As always, the office was a little bit of a mess. This man wouldn’t know “organized” if it hit him in the nards. Currently, he’s hunched over his laptop, writing some notes down and putting some papers in a folder. You have an inkling as to what he’s doing. Shuffling to stand in front of his desk, you gently clear your throat to get his attention. Sharp, bloodshot eyes flicker up to you, size you up, and his face suddenly twists into a look of irritation and confusion.

 

“Where’s my coffee? You KNOW you’re late with it, right? What’s with that file? I didn’t ask you to get anything like that.” His accusatory tone is crystal clear, and you feel he has a hint as to what you’re doing as well. With a shaky breath, you do your best to speak in a firm tone.

 

“Sir. I’m sorry, but I’m not here to bring you your morning coffee, nor will I be bringing you anything again.” A thin eyebrow is raised. You quickly continue. “This is my resume. I’m applying for that job whether you want me to or not, and you can’t stop me. I quit. Right here and right now. I’m sick and tired of being your errand dog, I’m a SCIENTIST dammit. I didn’t get my phd just to get you shit you’re too lazy to go and get yourself.” You cringe inwardly, regretting your harsh tone. Trying to be professional is hard when the issue is personal. With baited breath, you wait for his reply.

 

 

Half a minute passes in silence. His face is oddly neutral. Usually he’d be tearing you a new one at this point but...this scared you more than that, to be honest. Another twenty seconds pass, and you almost jump out of your skin when he sighs and drags a hand down his face.

 

“You’re right.”

 

Wait...what?

 

“I shouldn’t have treated you with such disrespect. We are essentially equals, after all. Who am I to stop someone from furthering their career?” He gives you an apologetic look, and you feel like you’re almost dreaming. You’ve NEVER seen him act like this. As you stand there shocked, he scoops up his folder and stands from his chair.

 

“S-sir?” You ask.

 

“We may not see eachother again after today. Please, at least let me take you to the coffee shop downtown. This was inevitable, and I would like to give you a proper farewell, as well as some form of...a peace offering, if you will.” He tilts his head in question, prompting you to answer instantly.

 

“I-I, I mean, sure. Thank you.” Is all you can manage to sputter out in your shock. Was this even the same man you worked for?

 

“Come on, we can go in my car. I know yours is in for repairs right now.” He picks up his jacket and quickly exits the room, only stopping when he realized you were still standing there. You...felt a little apprehensive. All of this was really weird, and so sudden. But...a small part of you that always held hope for him was slowly overpowering your trepidation.

 

“Thank you so much.” You quickly trot up to him, and once he locks the door, the two of you make it into the elevator and out of the building. There was some awkward silence, sure. You were going to do your best to roll with it though.

 

After settling yourself into the passenger’s seat and buckling up, you finally decide to break the silence.

 

“You know...I’m actually really glad to do this. I would really prefer leaving on a decent note instead of a bad one.” He slips into the drivers seat after a moment, having to check something in the trunk of the car before getting in. He simply smiles at you and puts his keys in the ignition, locking the doors.

 

“It’s no problem, I feel the same.” As he pulls out of his parking spot, he frowns. “I hope you don’t mind, but the cafe I want to take you to is a little it of a drive. About 20 minutes or so.” You simply wave him off.

 

“It’s totally fine.” You assured him. It would certainly give you time to ease your nerves. Still, this was just...so out of character for him. Your face twists in confusion as you watch the buildings outside fly by. After a few minutes, you notice the silence is back. It doesn’t really surprise you, you two had never really talked casually before. As you glance over at him, he seems to be in deep thought as well. Almost anxious, even. Maybe he was nervous about how it would go? He really had no need to be, he always seemed like such a confident guy. You decide to shuffle through your portfolio to pass the time, making sure everything is where it needs to be.

 

Finally, after fifteen more minutes, the car rolls to a stop. Looking up from your lap, you notice...you’re not in the city anymore. Dense woodlands surround the car, muting most of the available sunlight. When had he...how did you not notice this? Were you really that distracted? You nervously glance over to your boss as he parks the car, shutting off the engine and unbuckling his seat belt. Noticing your stare, he nods his head, prompting you to do the same.

 

“Well? Aren’t you coming?” He asks with a bit of an edge. Gripping your seat belt, you nervously chew on your lip.

 

“I thought we were going to get coffee…? Why are we here?” You speak slowly, trying not to make your anxiety even worse.

 

“Oh, you’ll see. Now, come on.” It sounded more like an order now, almost threatening. He exits the car, and you quickly follow suit. With shaky hands, you close the passenger door, stiff legs taking you over to where your boss stood. You feel like you should be running now, so why aren’t you!? Letting out a weak breath, you go to speak.

 

“So-” Pain blossoms across your scalp as your hair is suddenly pulled, yanking your head backwards. Before you can even get anything else out, you hear a click, and a burning sensation spreads across your throat. You can feel yourself drop to the ground as warm liquid flows down your chest like a waterfall, accompanied by an instant dizzying sensation. Clawing at your throat, you gasp and wheeze for breath, not even noticing the soft glint of the dripping blade clutched in your boss’ hand. Your vision begins to turn to static, quickly fading deeper and deeper into darkness.

 

You only hear one thing before everything shuts off.

 

“You stupid bitch. I don’t make empty threats.”

 

 

.

..

…

….

 

It’s dark, and wet. More like...damp. Cold. Your eyes sting and breathing is almost impossible. Wiggling your fingers, you feel whatever substance that’s around you crumble and shift. Okay...that’s something you can work with. Running on the slight adrenaline rush, you begin to squirm about, shifting more of the loose substance around. With some persistence, you’re able to worm one of your arms upwards, breaking the surface of whatever you’re in. You can feel a gentle cool wind against your hand.

 

Were you...underground? You push and pull as hard as you can, shoving your other arm up and out as well. From this point, you’re able to uncover yourself with a lot less struggle. As soon as you feel less pressure on your chest, you force yourself to sit up, dirt flying from the sudden movement.

 

You choke and gag as you attempt to breathe in, hacking up bits of earth from your throat and blowing some out of your nose. FINALLY, you’re able to take a decent breath. Shivering, you prop yourself on your elbows, doing nothing but breathing for a few moments. Lifting an arm, you wipe wet dirt from your eyes as best as you can. You’re not really sure what you expected when you opened your eyes.

 

Greeted by bright moonlight, you can make out the semi-familiar woods. Weren’t...you just here in the daytime, though? Climbing out of the shallow grave, you proceed to brush more dirt off of yourself. It’s then that you notice the old, crusted blood all over your front.

 

You...had you died? Your boss…your boss set you up. Took you here to kill you. Your head is spinning with so many questions, tears flowing from your tired eyes.

 

_What the hell was going on???_


	2. Food Poisoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes two months for you to start getting used to your new life. You've done a lot of shit you're not proud of, but someone else seems to love what you've done. Or, what you've become, that is. You can't imagine who on god's green earth wouldn't be repulsed by what you do.   
> Turns out, sometimes the people you idolize know who you are.

You shake your head as you’re brought back to reality. Two months had gone by since you died. Or, came back to life. Either term worked. Sure, it was a huge shock, and you’re still not used to your new lifestyle. Limping back home literally looking like a corpse was a feat in it’s own, and you had hoped to god nobody saw you. Not that you’d be recognizable covered in dirt and in the dark, but you didn’t want to scare anyone, or become the local cryptid for that matter. You had to walk all the way home due to your car still being in the shop. Stupid fucking car. Your feet felt like they were bleeding when you got home at around 6am.

 

Coming home to a hot shower was almost orgasmic. Washing all of that cakey dirt and dry blood off of your skin was not unlike a lizard shedding it’s old skin. Watching the red and brown water pour down your drain, you prayed it wouldn’t clog. You would hate to have to spend money to have someone come and fix it for you.

 

Never finding the gash that was supposed to be in your throat was worrying. You certainly hadn’t imagined it, and the crusted blood was in the right form for it to have happened. Stepping out of the shower to find that your skin was about five shades more sickly and pale? It wouldn’t be concerning if it were just temporary. But no, weeks had passed, and the new dull complexion you had gained seemed to stay. Not to mention the fact that every hair on your body had turned almost completely WHITE. Your hair had gone from a normal soft texture, to the feeling of dry straw. You spent a lot more on conditioner now than you used to.

 

Those weren’t the only changes, though. Oh no. Your heartbeat had decreased to six beats per-minute. It made sense in a way, because later on you had found out that you don’t bleed very well. In a moment of morbid curiosity and manic disorder, you had ran the blade of a knife down your arm only to find that after five whole minutes, there was barely any blood dripping from the gash. It still hurt, but not as much as it should have. The last surprise you got was the fact that it had healed itself over a short period of time.

 

Well, the last surprise that was easy to come to terms with, that is. Not even a day after you had gotten home and cleaned up, you began to feel hungry. Upon eating a simple snack from the fridge, you discovered that...you couldn’t taste anything. Fruits, vegetables, meats, none of it had any taste to it. Your hunger hadn’t even been sated at all. This hunger felt like some deep primal urge buried deep in the back of your brain.

 

‘Brain...’ You had thought. Something about that seemed...perfect. Completely succulent and appetizing. You needed it. NEEDED. IT. You could feel yourself drool at the thought, and in a moment of clouded judgment, you went out to find your meal, growing ever more agitated and primal. It was like you were a completely different person, barely conscious.

 

You quiver at the thought of the poor soul who had the misfortune of dying at the hands of your “Intense zombie hunger” moment. You...really went all out. The memory always makes you gag. Your attention is turned to the unconscious woman in front of you, a similar situation currently happening. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try not to think too hard about the fact that this was a PERSON. Someone who was like you. Or, like you used to be.

 

The deep bass coming from inside the high-end club filled your ears and reverberated along the dark alleyway you were crouched in. Grimby’s club always had at least a few passed out drunks littered about. You had come to learn that in the past few weeks, though you’d need to find a new feeding area soon. People were starting to notice the disappearance of people who happened to last be seen in the club. You were positive that if this got any more attention, police would be called. You didn’t want to run into any newly added security.

 

What would even happen to you? Would they shoot you on sight if they saw you feeding? Would you be put in jail, or on trial? What if they came to find out you weren’t exactly human? Being a government test subject didn’t really sound all that appealing to you. You make a mental note to check out the subway.

 

Opening your eyes, you sigh, clutching the heavy cinder block on your hands. Well lady, let’s hope you weren’t anyone important. With one hard swing, you bring it down onto the back of the woman's head, blood spraying in every direction coupled with a horrid **CRACK**. That’ll do pig, that’ll do. You try not to gag as you toss the cinder block to the side, reaching out to pull the rest of the shattered skull apart, ripping the scalp and hair back with a soft ripping noise. Your disgust slowly turns into delight as the scent of blood wafts into your nose, the sight of bloody pink brains looking like a grade A steak dinner.

You slowly dig your nails into a good chunk, tearing it out with a soft **squelch** as blood drips through your fingers.

 

A soft moan of delight leaves you as soon as you shove it into your mouth, the various juices leaking out of it like a fine marinade. That shit hits the spot, as gross as it was. Still chewing, you pull out a Tupperware container from your bag and begin to pull more chunks from her brain, storing each precious piece away to be saved for later. This whole thing should last you a month if you’re smart about portions. Sealing the container shut, you pull off your latex gloves that you had put on before bashing this woman’s head in and shove both items back into your bag. You lick the blood from your lips, using a rag that you had also brought to wipe the blood dripping from your chin.

 

It was messy, but it had to be done. Now, you had to haul ass as quickly and quietly as you could before someone could stumble onto the gruesome scene. Maybe you should start thinking about disposing of the bodies you mangle instead of just leaving them there...or start grave robbing. It wasn’t unheard of, but certainly not for the reason YOU’D be doing it for.

 

You had the route you took back home memorized by now, full of shadowy alleyways and darkened bridges. Standing up with a soft grunt, you make sure you haven’t left any shoeprints or stepped in any blood. You begin to walk down the first few alleyways, taking in the refreshingly cool air of the night. You usually didn’t see many people during your outings, seeing as how it was always around 3am. You’d occasionally pass a druggie or two, sometimes a poor soul sleeping under a dumpster. The walks were always quiet, though. You liked that. It gave you some time to calm down and think for a while.

 

Hmm…

 

Speaking of drug dealing, you’ll need to find a job soon. You had been scraping by on the last of your money from your previous job, still dealing with the whole zombie situation. Since you had quit before going to apply for that new position, you really had no need to go back there after you woke up. Maybe something inconspicuous would be best, at least for a while. Like working at the local grocery, or something. You still weren’t exactly ready to face those you once knew, especially looking the way you did. Plus, you had really isolated yourself for a while, you weren’t sure as to what you’d even SAY to anyone.

 

“Oh yeah, remember my old boss? The piece of shit one? Yeah well I don’t work for him anymore, but I died in the process. I eat brains now, isn’t that cool? Anyway, sorry for disappearing for a few months without even a word. So how was YOUR summer break?” You snicker to yourself.

 

A sudden metallic clattering echoed though the alleyway, startling you out of your thoughts. Whipping your head around, you’re greeted by nothing but the dank walls and damp walkways. Cringing, you begin to pick up your pace. It was probably a cat or something...though you didn’t want to take any chances. It wasn’t like you COULDN’T defend yourself, it’s just that...you tended to go into this rage overdrive mode and do a lot more damage than you intend to.

 

The next ten minutes it takes you to scamper home, you feel like you’re being watched. Strange really, because you’ve never felt that way going through your route before. It wasn’t the kind of feeling watched that made you feel like something bad was going to happen to you. It was more like...you were simply being observed. Shivering, you trot up the stairwell in your apartment building, ready to fall into bed and get some rest. You should start changing your route home, just in case someone was actually following you.

 

An envelope taped to the door of your room stops you dead in your tracks. Plucking it from it’s place and turning it over, you notice there’s no signature, or anything of the sort. Frowning, you glance around the dingy hallway before quickly unlocking your door, shuffling in and locking it just as fast. With a heavy sigh, you bend over and pull your shoes off, carelessly tossing them to the side.

 

Making your way into the kitchen, you drop your bag and the envelope onto the counter before pulling out the plastic container, storing the brain chinks in your freezer and disposing of the bloodied gloves. Pulling a bottle of water out of the fridge, you grab the envelope and trot over to your tiny living room, flopping down on your musty old couch. Taking a swig of water, you begin to inspect the envelope. It wasn’t sealed...hmmm. Flipping the flap up and pulling out the paper inside, you unfold it with a bit of trepidation. Wow, this handwriting was gorgeous. You were expecting something along the lines of magazine cut-out letters.

 

“I have been watching you for the past few weeks. Your behavior and overall physical state is simply fascinating. I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. To be able to meet with you and get a closer look would make me immensely happy. I know who you are, and I have a feeling you know who I am as well. I have seen you once before. Before you changed.

Meet me at your old workplace tomorrow morning, at 7am sharp. Floor 13, room 264.

Don’t worry about security or anything of the sort. Simply show this to Ginger at the front desk.

I eagerly await your arrival.”

 

The little blood you had left ran cold.

 

Someone HAD seen you?

 

Someone WAS watching you???

 

Just the thought of it made you feel sick to your stomach. Does this mean they had seen you...eat? They certainly didn’t seem disgusted. They were oddly interested, from what you could tell.

 

Sinking into the cushions, you read the short message over and over, trying to make sense of it. It certainly couldn’t be your boss, his writing wasn’t as nice, nor was he that literate. Not to mention, he probably thought you were still dead. For some reason, you feel like you’ve seen this handwriting before...and they mentioned Ginger. You and Ginger were close work friends, often gossiping in the break room with a few other employees.

 

Could this have been Dr.Alphys? You had gotten pretty familiar with her before you had quit. This doesn’t sound too much like her, though…

 

Should you really go? It was already 4am...and you didn’t exactly feel too trusting, not after how you ended up dying. Though, you really didn’t have much to lose, did you? You were a shut in, leaving only for food and basic necessities. You hadn’t spoken to any friends or family in months. You were alone. Wasting your days away. Running a hand through your hair, you take a large gulp of water, throwing the letter onto the dented coffee table. For all you know, this could turn out better than you could ever have imagined.

 

It’s true, you DON’T have much to lose. Pushing yourself up from the couch, you grab your phone and walk over to your bedroom, setting the alarm for 6am. Two hours of sleep is better than none, right? You knew the anxiety would settle in after you woke up, but you were too tired and numb to feel it at the moment. Pulling your clothes off, you flop into bed, nestling yourself into the thick covers.

 

You’re out like a light as soon as your head hits the pillow.

* * *

 

 

You furiously scrub away at your skin, showering as fast as you can. You had slipped a few times, mind still groggy from sleep. Your whole body ached as well.

 

You hadn’t slept past your alarm, but you didn’t want to be late either. It had taken you a while to find acceptable clothing, and you finally decided on a button-up shirt and pencil skirt combo, currently sitting on the bathroom counter. You’d be damned if you wore heels while you were this shaky and nervous, though, ESPECIALLY on your sore feet. Simple flats were obviously the best choice for this. Once you were positive every inch of your skin was clean, you shut the shower off and step out into the steamy bathroom, squeezing water out of your hair as you reach out and grab a towel. Ew, you’d need to go out and buy new ones soon. The ones you currently had were falling apart and not even close to being as soft as they used to be. Just stained, stringy, mangled sheets of terrycloth.

 

After drying yourself and your hair the best you can (you wouldn’t dare dry your hair out any more by using a hairdryer), you crack open the bathroom door to let the heavy steam out. Turning to the mirror and wiping most of the condensation away, you take a moment to just...look at yourself.

 

You really did look dead, even your NIPPLES looked grey now. Strangely, the scars you had before you died hadn’t healed. You guessed it only worked on wounds gained AFTER your transformation. Running your hands down your nude body, you can’t help but feel like someone else is staring back at you. In a sense, you were right. So many things had changed so fast...you wondered if any of your friends would even recognize you anymore. Your skin was a lot more cold now. Dark circles always present under your eyes, pale lips, hazy eyes, hell. You looked like a woobified version of “the rake”. The thought made you chuckle a little.

 

Grabbing your underwear, you slip them on along with your bra, shirt and skirt following afterwards. Should you wear tights…? Hmmm. No. You didn’t feel in the mood to deal with the uncomfortable clingy fabric. Turning back to the mirror, you decide for just a TOUCH of makeup. A dash of blush, mascara, a dab of concealer, and sheer rosy lipstick were enough to make you look more alive. Letting out a hum, you decide to leave your hair alone other than brushing out every tangle and smoothing it as much as you could. Sadly, it still looked dry and fluffy. You had considered dying it more than once, but the upkeep would cost you too much. You hoped you pulled off the white hair as good as Jeff Goldblum, or any of those other finely aged celebrities you’ve seen.

 

Mmm. Jeff Goldblum.

 

Making sure everything looks acceptable, you walk out of the bathroom to your living area. Bending over, you snatch the letter up off of the table and stuff it into your purse you had set there last night. Checking your phone to make sure it’s well charged, you notice the time. 6:32am. Better get your ass moving, then. Donning your purse, you slip your shoes on and exit your apartment, making SURE to lock the door behind you. If someone knew where you lived, you didn’t want to take ANY chances.

 

Who knows what this person was like. Stuffing your keys into your purse and making sure you had your keys and everything you needed, you begin your descent down the painfully long stairwell of your apartment building. Damn it, when were they going to fix the elevators? Thankfully, you didn’t live TOO many stories up. Just the fifth floor, really. You pity the residents on the tenth floor. If it were you, you would have moved out of this hell building. Not to mention, the railings of the stairwell were always oddly sticky. You make sure to give a wave to the front desk attendant as you walk by. That had to be such a boring job.

 

Pushing the large glass doors open, you step out into the misty morning. Ugh, that didn’t help you feel any more awake. You curse yourself for not making a cup of coffee before leaving. The short walk to the parking lot was quiet, only the sounds of birds filling the air. You weren’t sure if living in such a quiet, dead part of the city was so good. You had lived here for three years and it still unnerved you. Making sure not to trip over any cracks in the pavement, you pull your keys out and unlock your car as you approach it.

 

It was a quaint little car, really. Faded tan paint and slightly used interior. It was comfortable, homey, and familiar. You’ve had this car since your first year of college, and it was still going strong. You only had to get repairs on it because some ass rammed his car into the front of yours. It was a miracle you came out unscathed. The shock hurt more than the actual physical pain. You have to work a little, but you pry open the door to the driver’s seat and flop in, tossing your purse onto the passenger’s seat before closing the door and strapping in. Your hands mould perfectly to the worn leather of the steering wheel, and you let out a contented sigh as you start the engine.

 

Calm. Chill. Just be chill, you tell yourself. Pretend it’s like any day you’d drive to work.

 

Pulling out of the ruddy driveway, you begin the trip to Hawkins Enterprise. It’s not too far away, only about 15 minutes in good traffic. Today? Traffic was almost nonexistent. Maybe that’s why you were asked to some so early on a Sunday. It would be nice and quiet. You consider stopping for a coffee, but decide against it. You’d rather have extra time than be almost late. You didn’t need that with the nerves you already had.

* * *

 

 

After ten minutes, you find yourself parking in a familiar spot. Pleased with the time you made, you grab your purse before pulling yourself out of your car and locking it.

 

Ginger...you felt bad for never saying a word to her after you left. Would she even recognize you? Would ANYONE recognize you? Some part of you hopes you’ll see your old boss. His reaction to seeing you would be so fucking priceless. You hope if you run into him, he pisses himself. That would be some nice karma. You let out a breathy laugh, walking down the pristine sidewalk, up to the large glass doors to the building. Shiny as always. You couldn’t imagine how much money was spent on the upkeep for this massive place. You stop for a moment, staring at your reflection. Certainly...Certainly nobody HARMFUL would be working here.

 

Well, no. The whole reason you were standing here today was BECAUSE of someone harmful who worked here. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself as best as you can, you let it out as you push your way through the doors. Shoes clicking on spotless tile, you ready the letter as you approach the desk. As expected, Ginger sat in her usual spot. Bouncy hair tied up and dark skin as flawless as ever. You doubt your skin would ever look as alive as hers anymore. Shuffling up, your voice gets caught in your throat. Noticing your presence, Ginger does a double take as she glances up at you. Suddenly standing from her chair, she gapes at you.

 

“O-Oh my god. Is...is that YOU? What HAPPENED to you?! You leave for months with no warning or goodbye, only to come back looking like you’ve died!” Despite her shocked and angry tone, she hurries around the desk to embrace you. Pathetically, you almost let out a sob as you wrap your arms around her. It felt like it had been years since you’ve had contact with anyone, much less a good friend.

 

“I’m sorry.” You croak, laying your head on her shoulder. “I...Something huge came up so fast, I didn’t have time to tell anyone.” Your emotions rush in like a tidal wave, catching up with you all too fast. “God, Ginger...shit’s been terrible. So hard. It’s like a whole new life I have to adjust to.” You can feel your eyes mist up as she strokes your hair.

 

“Don’t think I forgive you for pulling that disappearing act. It’s been eating me up for so long.” You can hear a waver in her voice as well. “I can’t even imagine what could have happened to leave you like THIS.” She sighs, wiping her eyes as she pulls back, holding you by your shoulders. “Just...holy shit. We need a lot of catching up to do. Thing have been different here too.” You liked that about Ginger. She didn’t immediately pry. She always waited until people were ready to talk, instead of trying to pull it out of them. You give a weak smile in return.

 

“We do. We really do. I know I have no room to say this but, I missed you like hell.” Her sorrow-filled deep amber eyes seemed to stare right into your soul, filling you with guilt.

 

“Why are you even here?” She asks. “I thought you quit?” That raises a few questions within you. You pull back, grabbing the letter and handing it to her.

 

“I was asked to visit, and was told to give this to you when I came in.” Confused, she takes it from you to give it a look. Suddenly, she looks surprised, looking from the paper, to you, quite a few times.

 

“Y-Yeah, I recognize this. Though, I didn’t expect it to be YOU. He never told me who it was for...” It’s your time to be surprised.

 

“What? Why?” You asked a little nervously. “Who wrote this??” She anxiously glances to the side, seemingly trying not to say something.

 

“I can’t tell you that. It’s...It’s better if you go see for yourself.” She quickly makes her way back to the desk, grabbing a key card and holding it out to you. “Though I have to say...I don’t think you’ll be too upset. Go on, he’s waiting.” You furrow your brow, plucking the card from her grasp. You give her a nod, and begin to walk over to the elevator. “Hey!” She shouts. “Come talk to me afterwards, okay? You look like you need a coffee, and I have so much I need to tell you.” You turn back and give her a genuine smile. She could read you so well.

 

“I promise.” You call back, before walking down the corridor to the chrome elevators. You don’t even have to wait for any to come down, they’re already on the first floor when you press the call button. Stepping in, you hesitate before pressing the button labeled “13”. Leaning back as the elevator begins its ascent, you try to clear your mind. You’re fine. You’re safe here. Nobody would try to harm you in a place full of security cameras.

 

For a moment, you have to think of how strange it was. The 13th floor, that is. Most buildings didn’t have them due to superstitions. It’s silly, really. To let something like a simple number have so much control over you. You almost don’t notice it when the elevator stops and opens. Pushing off of the wall, you make your way out of the elevator, stopping to look around. Room...264. Right? Evens were on the right side, so you turn down the right hallway, watching the various names and numbers pass you by. 258, 260, 262...ah, 264. Strange, that was one of the largest rooms on the floor. Taking a moment to make sure you’re presentable, you lightly knock on the door. Standing back, you take a quick look at the name beside the door.

 

Your blood runs cold, and you feel like you’re floating.

 

_“Just a moment please.”_ A familiar deep, buttery voice calls out.

 

Oh lord.

 

You didn’t have to be fluent in Wingdings to figure out who’s room this was. The door handle turns, and as the door opens, you feel like you might die for good.

 

_“Ah, how wonderful. I was hoping you’d take the invitation. You don’t know how pleased I am to see you here.”_ He beams. He...he was so much taller in person. He had at LEAST three feet over you, making him even more intimidating.

 

All you can do is stare up into those fuchsia eyes and try not to collapse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to W.D. Gaster for leaving such a nice comment today. It really gave me the inspiration to finish the second chapter so soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy yall! For a while now, I've been OBSESSED with the show iZOMBiE. I loved the general idea they went for with zombies, and I wanted to incorporate that into this story. No, this will not be a complete copy, nor will it be a crossover of any sorts. If you'd like to understand the whole idea a bit better, I suggest you look it up! It's honestly a great show.  
> I hope yall will enjoy reading this as much as I'll enjoy writing it! Chapter two is already in production, so expect and update soon!


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